


Music Festivals and Video Game Tournaments

by lord_of_cats



Category: Homestuck
Genre: But thats just hinted at, F/F, Fluff, John is trans, M/M, Muteness, Please no incest, Sibling Bonding, Video Game Tournaments, music festivals, mute character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 15:06:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12773592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lord_of_cats/pseuds/lord_of_cats
Summary: When James Strider-Egbert has his heart set on going to a music festival in the next city over, his sister Elizabeth is forced to go with him. She does not want to go, but anything to make her twin brother happy, right?Meanwhile, their parents John and Dave have the house to themselves. What a perfect time for a video game tournament.





	Music Festivals and Video Game Tournaments

**Author's Note:**

> Haha I'm back, yeah I know.
> 
> Elizabeth and James are my babies I love them.  
> To clear things up, they call John dad and Dave papa.
> 
> Also I've never been to a misic festival before, so i based the twins experience off of my own experience at rural markets/festivals. Yes, that includes the cult, albeit dramatised a bit more.

Your name is Elizabeth Strider-Egbert and you are unbelievably fucking infuriated right now.   
  
"Oh hell no!" You complain, loudly and angrily. "I am not going to that stupid festival! No way in hell!"   
James, your dumbass twin brother and the cause of all your current pains and problems, looks at you with sad blue eyes that look like they'll spill with tears at any moment. 'Please Elizabeth.' He signs, lower lip trembling.   
You reply by flipping him the bird, but subtly under the table, so your parents can't see.   
Your dad sighs, reaching across the table to pat you on the hand. "Elizabeth sweetheart, I know you don't want to go, but please do it, for your little brother?"   
"No." You shake your head. 

Your brother loves music and celebrations of music and all that jazz, so of course he wants to go to Lake City Indie Music Festival in Lake City. Unfortunately for you,  ( and him too , you guess, ) he can't go there unless you go with him,  due to Lake City  being next town over and you need to catch a train to get there. Your parents are being super paranoid and saying that you have to go with him. 

To be fair, your brother is mute and pretty helpless on his own, and the Lake City public transit is terrible and gross.   
Your papa slams a 50 dollar note on the table. "I'll give you this if you go to the festival with your brother."   
"I'm listening..." You hum, eyeing off the money.   
"Dave! Don't bribe her to go with money!" Your dad says sternly, frowning at your papa.   
'If it gets her to come so I can go, please do.' James signs frantically, eyeing the money on the table as well.   
Your dad glances between the 50 dollar note on the table, James's tearful face and your (hopefully) stubbornly defiant one.   
"Elizabeth." Your papa starts, furrowing his brow a little. "We'll pay for the train ride there and back, and give you both some spending money as well."   
"You're speaking like I'm going." You huff, folding your arms tight against your chest.   
At your words, James pouts even more, if that's even possible. His eyes get so watery that you swear several tears roll down his cheeks. ‘Elizabeth please. The lineup is spectacular. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for me.’    
"Alright fine..." You roll your eyes and huff even louder.    
James immediately perks up, zooming across the table to scoop you up in a hug. Despite not saying anything, you know what he means: 'thank you'.   
"Just for the money though." You say, reaching for the 50 dollar not on the table, but before you can grab it, your papa swoops it back up and holds it above your grasping fingers.   
"This is spending money, got it? And I want change!"   
"This is bullshit!" You protest, and both your parents frown at your words.   
"Elizab-" Your dad starts but your papa interrupts him.   
"Fine, no change." He hands the money back to you. "But you're in charge, look out for your brother ok? You're in charge, so don't do dumb shit and don't get into trouble."   
"Yeah yeah, I got it." You huff, pushing James off you finally.   
He stumbles back a little, but still grins and shoots you the thumbs up symbol.   
"Great!" Your dad claps his hands together and grins. "You're going then, glad that's settled."   
"You owe me asshole." You glower at James. He just grins back as a response.   
  
***   
  
Your name is John Strider-Egbert and you are kind of glad your two kids are leaving you and Dave for the day.   
Don't get you wrong, you love your kids! But it's nice to have a break from them. They drive you a little crazy sometimes.   
  
"Bye sweethearts!" You fuss around Elizabeth and James, handing them their backpacks for the day. "Your lunch is in there, just some sandwiches, fruit and muesli bars."   
You ignore the face Elizabeth makes and turn your attention to your sons hands.   
'We should be fine dad, I mean there'll be food stalls at the festival anyway.' He signs, barely containing his excitement and bouncing up and down by the balls of his feet.   
"Be careful with that stuff. Some of its good, but some of it...just be careful okay?" You reply.   
"Dad, we'll be fine!" Elizabeth huffs, red eyes flashing in annoyance. "I mean, I'm in charge after all." Her tone changes to one of pride.   
"That's why I'm worried..." You mumble under your breath, before bringing both your kids in for a hug. "Have fun you two."   
James hugs you tightly, while Elizabeth mutters "I won't" under her breath, before wiggling to get away.   
"You kids need a ride to the train station or you cool with walking?" Dave strolls into the room, ruffling James's curly locks with his hand.   
'We're cool with walking.' James grins, turning to hug Dave tightly.   
"Come on James, let's go. You don't wanna miss the train to this thing do you?" Elizabeth says, tapping her foot impatiently.   
James breaks away from Dave before signing a reply. 'Yeah hold up and give me a second.'   
Standing on his tiptoes, he kisses Dave on the cheek, before leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek as well. 'Bye dad! Bye papa! I love you'.   
He waves goodbye before hurrying after his sister, who's already halfway out the house.   
"Bye sweethearts!! I love you too! Have fun and stay safe!!" You call after them. Their reply is closing the door behind them, slamming it behind them. Whether or not this is intentional you have no idea. Knowing Elizabeth, it probably was.   
  
You let out a long sigh, smiling after where they would be if the walls weren't in the way. "I hope they have fun. Elizabeth didn't seem too thrilled about going."   
"Ah it'll be fine." Dave reassures you, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "They'll have fun, and if they don't? It's a learning experience on how shitty music festivals actually are."   
"That's not really a lesson we should be teaching our children."    
Dave laughs, ducking his head a little. "That's true."   
You reach up on your tiptoes to kiss him on the side of his mouth before turning back around and walking into the living room. "I still hope they have fun. James was super excited for the festival, he's been signing about it for weeks! I love him and all, but it was getting a little annoying. I think he inherited your talkitivity."   
"Talkitivity isn't a fucking word John. Look it up in the dictionary and that shit ain't there. It's coming out of your mouth, but it's fucking nonsense . " Dave walks past you and plops himself down on the couch. "But yeah I do hope they have fun. We need a bit of a break."   
"I hope they're okay. Did they make it to the train on time? What if they get mugged at the festival?" You start panicking, pacing a little.   
"Hey." Dave places a calming hand on your arm. "They'll be fine, Elizabeth's in charge and they've both got phones so they can text us if anything goes wrong."   
"I know." You sigh. "I just worry."   
"You're their dad, it's your job to be worried." Dave comforts you, voice a little muffled through couch cushions.   
"You're their dad too, why aren't you worried?" You laugh a little, raising an eyebrow at his antics.   
"I am, Elizabeth's in charge. Somethings bound to go wrong. But, they're 16, they need independence. They can't have their dads hovering around them 24/7, even though we want to." He shrugs. "It's parenting I guess. Wanting your kids to be safe but not wanting to smother them."   
You go to sit beside him on the couch, and he lifts his head to let you settle down next to him. As soon as you sit down, he places his head on your lap. Absent-mindedly, you begin to run your hands through his hair, ignoring the stiffness of his hair gel. He's 46, and still slathers the stuff on like a highschool boy determined to fuck every girl in his year.   
"I guess so. I think it's normal to be constantly worried about your children. Especially with ones like ours.” You chuckle.

The two of you slip into a comfortable silence for a while. You stroke his hair and he hums his contentment. You think he's humming the sesame street theme, but before you can make sure, he’s stopped, looking up at you with sincerity in his eyes.

“Do you ever miss being young?”

“What are you talking about dude? We're only 46, I don't have that many grey hairs and wrinkles do I?” You pull a little on your own faintly grey streaked hair to emphasize your point.

“No I don't mean like that. I mean like the shit we used to do together when we were teenagers and stuff. Having video game tournaments, sleepovers every weekend, hanging out at every opportunity we had.”

“We don't have sleepovers every weekend because we live together now Dave.” You interrupt. He narrows his eyes at you and continues.

“I mean the innocence of that time. Where we didn't have to worry about taxes and jobs and buying stuff and bills and taking care of children. Remember when we were the children being taken care of? Like your dad (God rest his soul) had to raise two kids and pretty much me too by the amount of time I spent at your house, and as a single parent he really struggled taking care of you two and having enough money to buy the basics. And...and we were just chilling together doing dumb shit and playing video games, totally oblivious to your dad's plight?”

“I know what you mean. I don't know how he did it. Co-parenting the twins is hard enough, raising me and Jane (and you) would have been hard on just one person. I...I miss him.” You finish sadly.

Dave nods in agreement. “I miss him too.”

You wipe your wet eyes a little. “That's really deep. What brought this on?”

“Oh I wanted to initiate a video game tournament but I got kind of sidetracked.”

You laugh. “You're on! What games and what's the prize?”

“Well first of all, Mario Kart, because that is an essential part of any video game tournament.”

“Obviously dude.”

“Also Super Smash Bros. To be more specific, Brawl.”

“Why Brawl? That one's shitty.”

“Because of the story mode. Also you can play as Sonic the Hedgehog which makes any game infinitely better.”

“I can't tell if that's sarcasm or not.” 

“And finally a round of COD. Whoever wins has to do the others chores for a week.”

“That's dumb Dave. When I win and you have to cook dinner, you're going to fuck it up because you're bad at cooking.”

“And you'll probably mess up all my neat folded laundry and just kinda shove them in the draws...Okay then fine. The loser has to ummm...chug down a gross combo drink of the winners making.”

“That sounds better.”

 

Dave springs upwards, knocking your hands off his head. “I'll prepare the Wii.”

“Then I'll prepare the snacks I guess.” You stand up and head into the kitchen.

Having two children, both 16 and studying in their Junior year of high school, you have a lot of snacks in your cupboard. They need the snacks for study apparently, which you and Dave originally thought was bullshit but it has actually helped them, surprisingly.

Your gaze darts from the various foodstuffs in your cupboard. Chips, pasta, dry crackers, muesli bars, microwave popcorn, some of your leftover baked experiments...perfect! You grab a package of microwave popcorn and two apple muffins from the experiment tin. You place the muffins on a plate on the bench before taking the microwave popcorn out of its packet and into the microwave.

While it cooks, you chop up some fruit to place on the muffin plate. Just some oranges, apples and watermelon with a bunch of grapes. Not much, but it's exactly like the plates your dad would bring out to you and Dave while he stayed over. You wipe a tear from your eye. Nostalgia is a powerful thing. 

You pop a grape into your mouth before turning your attention to the microwave popcorn. You take it out, wincing at the heat of the packet but loving that fresh popcorn smell. You pour it into a bowl, snacking on the few that miss the bowl and land on the kitchen bench. 

“You done setting the Wii up?” You call out to Dave, carrying the bowl of popcorn out to the living room.

“Yeah.” He replies, coming over to grab your bowl of popcorn. He sets it down on the coffee table, allowing you to go back for the fruit plate.

When you come back, Dave’s already shoving popcorn into his mouth with one hand and is already on the character select screen. He of course, has already chosen Princess Peach.

“Save some for me!” You complain, setting down the fruit platter and slumping down beside him. He passes you a wii remote, still crunching on popcorn.

“So I've chosen VS Race. We'll take it in turn choosing courses. Since I'm such a good sport, I'll let you choose first.” 

“Oh wow , a nd they say chivalry is dead.” You roll your eyes, at the same time flicking your wii remote to choose Luigi. The best character in your humble opinion.

The two of you choose your karts (and motorbike in Dave's case) before moving on to the course selection screen.

“Since I’ve got first pick, I choose the ghosty one.” You announce.

“SNES Ghost Valley it is.” Dave says, selecting the course. “And you always choose this course. You know I'm bad at it.” 

“But this is my favorite course! It's not my fault you suck at Mario Kart dude.” 

The preview of the course shows up on screen, but Dave skips it. Lakitu begins his countdown.

“Wise words...coming from someone who doesn't even know about the pre race speed boost!” Dave yells as Peach’s motorbike jets forward past Luigi’s kart.

“Hey! No fair!” You protest, twisting around your wii remote in an effort to catch up to Dave. Fortunately for you, you needn't bother, because Princess Peach goes careening off the edge of the course and into the abyss below. Dave immediately loses his 1st place position right down into 10th.

You laugh as he lets out a groan of frustration. Pretty much as soon as Lakitu puts Peach back on the course, she careens back off it again. This only causes you to laugh harder.

Having overtaken his 1st place position, and knowing this course inside out, it's not long before you lap him. Twice.

Both times you're laughing your ass off more and more, and he's getting increasingly frustrated.

It's no surprise that you finish in first place, and his motorbike stalls, meaning he's come last.

Funnily enough, the rest of your races go pretty much the same (meaning you won). 

He gives you a bit of a scare in Coconut Mall, coming 1st to your 2nd. In DK Snowboard Cross, you come 1st, but he comes 5th. And finally, in Rainbow Road, he came last while you came in 10th.

“I won the first round!” You punch the air excitedly, shoving popcorn into your mouth.

“Yeah yeah.” Dave grumbles. “I just put Mario Kart in there for the tradition of it.”

“Oh shush your excuses and set up Smash Bros! I can't wait to beat you at that too!” You grin.

Dave pouts, and says nothing as he sets up Super Smash Bros.

 

“Okay, so, rules. This is best of three. I dibs Peach, and you probably dibs Kirby anyway. Randomised stages. Sound good?” Dave says, selecting Peach, changing her skin to the red one.

“Sounds good!” You reply, selecting Kirby true to his prediction. He’s your main, and he's super cute ;  who cares about you being predictable  with yor main. It's not like Dave chooses anyone but Princess Peach in any game where she's a playable character.

Dave continues on in the battle selection, making it a 3 stock battle and the stages randomised. 

The Announcer announces that the battle is ready to start.

The first stage is Onett. Roxy introduced James and Elizabeth to the Mother series, and they loved it (just not the ending of Mother 3. That was a dark day in your household.) So whenever they play Smash Bros., they always pick Onett and play as either Ness or Lucas.

Confident from your Mario Kart win, Kirby charges straight at Peach, leaping over her at the last second and smashing her with the down special. Peach is blasted off stage, much to your delight.

However, your luck ends there. Dave may be shitty at Mario Kart, but he is very good at Smash Bros.

Kirby is blasted off the stage twice before you can react, and when you do, it's too late because off he blasts again, and you've lost the first round.

The other two rounds continue like this. Dave grows smugger and smugger with each time Peach blasts Kirby off stage.

You manage to blast him off once or twice, but it's nothing in comparison to the amount of times he blasts you off stage.

At the third “Peach Wins” stage in a row, Dave lets out a yell of delight and shoves his apple muffin in his mouth. Grumpily, you flip him the bird but that makes him laugh harder. “Time for the tiebreaker!” He grins once hes completely eaten his muffin, somehow managing to spray crumbs everywhere.

“Ew. You're gross.” You wrinkle up your nose in distaste.

“You were the one who married me after knowing I was gross, so jokes on you.” He grins, half rolling off the couch to setup Call of Duty.

“Not really.” You mumble wistfully, staring down at the ruby-infused gold band on your finger.

“You're a sap.” Dave says from his spot on the floor setting up the Playstation.

“You say that like you're not thumbing your own ring and grinning like a sap yourself.”

“I am not!” He protests, blushing heavily. Well, most likely only lightly, his pale-ass albino skin makes everything more dramatic.

“I can see your reflection in the TV screen, dumbass.”

He grins wider, but his reflection disappears when the Playstation starts up. He gets up and plops down next to you, slinging an arm across your shoulder. 

“Okay, so, rules. One round, most kills wins. Winner makes loser a lovely drink filled with the delicious stuff from the pantry. It's got to be edible though, no pissing in it like last time!”

“I didn't piss in your drink Dave! You're just a paranoid asshole.”

“I know what piss tastes like John, thank you very much.”

“You're gross.” You roll your eyes. There's no use arguing when he gets started on how you apparently pissed in his drink the last time you did this. It wasn't piss, it was 3-month out of date apple juice with crushed chips and just a hint of digestive biscuits. There was more, but you can't remember exactly what was in it.

The two of you proceed to select your weapons and the map. After the long ass loading screen, you begin the match.

It is very intense. You're both leaning forward on the couch. Your tongue is poking out of your mouth while Dave breathes heavily to your right. You may be married, but that won't stop you from owning his noob ass. The timer ticks down. Your ammo runs low. Dave's thigh rubs against yours which is only slightly distracting. Then, the match ends.

While you did well in your match, so did Dave. He did...just as well…

Oh great it's a tie.

“Do you want a rematch or?” You ask, turning to look at Dave. He pauses in consideration before shaking his head.

“Nah, we both did pretty good. So it's only fun to make each other a shitty drink right? Like we tied, so I make you a drink and you make me one. Because in a way, we both won, and we both lost.”

“Alrighty then.” You wrinkle up your nose at having to drink one of Dave's concoctions, but rub your hands in glee at having to make him one. “You're on.”

 

You spring off the couch and hurry to the kitchen. Already you have lots of ideas swirling around in your head. Chilli powder, orange juice and toothpaste, milk, cinnamon, James's weird prune juice (seriously he's 16 why does he need that), some of the white chocolate truffles Elizabeth's hiding in the crisper and thinking she's hot shit for it, wrinkled lettuce and carrots. The possibilities are endless.

You start by grabbing a glass from the cupboard above. Maybe you'll start with a base of ground cinnamon and chilli, and one third James's prune juice? You head to the pantry, but Dave blocks your way.

“Prepare to lose Egbert.”

“It's Strider-Egbert and has been for 10 years, now move. I need chilli powder and ground cinnamon.”

“Whoa whoa whoa what? You are not putting chilli powder in my drink.”

“Oh I'm definitely putting it in now.” You push past him and he huffs, moving towards the fridge. 

“Well I'm gonna piss in your cup dude. Revenge.”

“What is your fascination with piss man? It's not hot. On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being naked in the arctic and 10 being the blazing inferno of the sun, piss ranks -10 (the icy surface of pluto) in hotness.” You say, all the while making a slurry of cinnamon, chilli powder and prune juice. 

“It's not my fault that apple juice, heavenly elixir of the gods, looks like piss John.” Dave says, in a very serious voice. Which is funny when he's cracking a raw egg into your glass, and some popcorn is sticking in his hair. How it got there, you have no idea.

“Hey babe can you pass me the orange juice?” You say, holding out an expectant hand. He wrinkles up his nose, but obliges. “Anyway, why are you making that connection?”

“Because of that stupid movie we watched together when we were like 11 or something. Shit was traumatizing man.” 

You laugh. Done with the orange juice, you duck quickly into the bathroom. “You've had some pretty fucked up stuff in your movies mister!” You call out to him from the bathroom.

“That's different. I'm the maker not the viewer.” He calls back, accompanied by the sound of something small (like pellets) being poured into glass.

You grab the toothpaste, uncapping it and squeezing a hearty helping into the now three quarters full glass. “What about that movie you made with that guy getting his eyes squashed by the other guys thumbs? The twins were devastated they weren't allowed to watch it.”

“That movies different. That was an adult only horror thing. You know, I gotta branch out. Although judging by their reactions, I'm not going to make another horror movie until they're much older and less likely to hang around my neck and scream.”

You walk back into the kitchen, just in time to watch Dave dip a finger into his concoction, lick it and then recoil in disgust. “That's probably a good thing. Also, isn't that meant for me? Or do you prefer to drink both?”

“I'm testing to make sure it's gross enough.” He pouts. You laugh, before opening the fridge and popping a small cherry tomato into your concoction.

“Okay I'm done. What about you?” You set your glass down on the table and sit yourself opposite Dave.

“Yeah I'm done too. Get ready to taste true grossness.” He switches the drinks around.

The one he's given you is a weird mixture of colours. You recognise raw egg, and some chunky things you think are sultanas as well as some raw rice.

“Okay...down the hatch.” You pick up the glass, eyeing it weirdly. “3...2...1…” 

Closing your eyes, in one gulp you swallow Dave's concoction. You reopen your eyes. That...didn't taste as bad as you thought it would. There's some yoghurt in there, you think, and it mixes nicely with the rice, egg and sultanas. There's a hint of some sort of spice...paprika maybe?

Dave on the other hand, is dying. His eyes are watering, and he's coughing madly. He jumps up from the table, slamming his glass down in the process, and dashes towards the sink. He shoves his mouth under the sink and drinks frantically.

You of course, find this hilarious. 

“You alright babe??” You chuckle, getting up to place a hand on his back.

“Leave me alone.” He sputters out, which makes you laugh harder. Your increased laughter serves to make him sulk harder.

He brings his mouth away from the tap and stands up, refusing to look you in the eye.

“Aw babe…” You grin, gently pulling him into a hug. “I'm sorry.”

He only grumbles, but he accepts your hug, which is better than last time. He didn't speak to you for the rest of the day he was that salty.

“You know how I get with these things. I gotta make gross things. It was pretty funny though.”

“It's okay.” Dave mumbles into your hair. “I know how you get, dweeb lord. At least tell me mine was pretty gross.”

“No actually, yours was kind of nice.”

“What. No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way. I find it funny how when you try to cook, it always is disgusting and somehow catches fire, but when you try to make something gross, it turns out nice.”

“Hey!” He protests, amidst your laughter. 

“Come on babe.” You break apart from the hug and grab his hand. “I'm pretty tired. Do you want to nap until the twins train gets in?”

“Sure.” Dave yawns. “I'm pretty beat too. All that child-raising and movie-making is making me exhausted.”

You laugh once more, before sleepily making your way to your bedroom and flopping down on your side of the bed. Dave flops beside you and you lie on top of him, drifting into a light doze.

 

***

 

Your name is James Strider-Egbert, and you are having the time of your life. If only your sister felt the same.

 

Everything is so big and amazing! The streets are packed with stalls each selling something even more fascinating than the last. You've been dashing from stall to stall to investigate ever since you got off the train this morning.

That's fine and all, you're having a great time! Except for the fact no one can understand that you're trying to communicate with them and your translator is slow as fuck. She's doing it on purpose. Your sister is the track and field champion in your tri-state area and has held that title for 4 years.

You know that pretty much the only reason why she's coming with is because you're mute, and she serves as a translator because most people don't know sign language.

Okay so maybe the train lines aren't exactly safe either, and you being alone in the city…

Alright maybe it's not entirely because you're mute. But still. She's your translator, both at this event and whenever you hang out. Then again, she's never been the best translator. She used to translate your signing at school, and always used to get you in trouble by purposely saying the wrong thing. You're glad for the new school-issued one.

For the upteempth time this morning, you have to stop and wait until she catches up.

‘Elizabeth!’ You start signing. She looks down at your hands, wholly unimpressed. ‘You know we have got to stick together!’

“Well then maybe stop running off.” She huffs a reply once you've finished signing.

‘You say that, but you never try to catch up to me!’

“I'm letting you have fun you little asshole! Besides, you're dashing around so fast between stalls that I can't be bothered to catch up.” She shrugs.

‘Well ok, that may be true. But you have bitchy all day! Like on the train, whenever I'd try to start a conversation you'd brush me off all grumpy. It's like you don't want to be here.’

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I thought i made that clear from the start. Like I'm only here because dad and papa said you couldn't go without me, and I didn't want to moping around the house for the rest of the month. I mean you're a right shithead most of the time, but you're my little brother and I'm supposed to have your back.”

‘We’re twins.’ You start. She rolls her eyes, but lets you continue. ‘And I'm sorry for semi dragging you here. But can you at least try to have a good time? There's some cool stuff i wanna show you.”

“There's nothing at this dingy, stupid music festival I'd want to see. I'm not going to have a good time because I'll have to babysit yo-what is THAT?” She yells, dashing over to a stall that has caught her eye. 

Begrudgingly, you follow her. 

It's a stall dedicated to the festival merchandise. All your typical stuff is there. Hats, t-shirts, mugs, posters, keychains, jewelry. As soon as Elizabeth sees what it is, she looses interest, but you press on.

They look so cool! And they'd be a great keepsake for memories of this day.

The t-shirts especially catch your eye. They're black, and like tour shirts, have the festival logos on the front, and the dates and bands playing on the back. The festival logo is the same as it is on the posters, mugs and flyers you saw advertising the festival. It depicts a guitar, with a twirling musical score coming out of the sound hole, and the words ‘Lake City Indie Music Festival’ surrounded by musical notes.

Alas, though you have your heart set on the t-shirt, it is not to be. You have no money, you're dead broke. The shirt is 20 bucks, and the money papa gave you is under Elizabeth's watchful eye, and that's for the train ride and food anyway. Food is very expensive here, you're lucky dad packed you lunch. 

“You like that shirt huh?” Elizabeth says from behind you. You turn and nod. She scrunches up her nose and lets out a huff. “I'm probably going to regret this later, but pick one in your size, I'll buy one for the both of us.” 

‘But papa's money!’ You protest. You love the shirt, but you don't want to waste your food money on a stupid shirt.

“My money dipshit. I have a job remember? I'll buy you a shirt.” As she says this, she grabs a shirt off the rack, holding it against herself to see if it'll fit. Nervous, but ecstatic, you pick out a size large and give it to her awaiting hands. 

You trail after her awkwardly as she proceeds to pay for the shirts. She small talks with the stall attendant, something about the crowds at the festival, and how would it be okay if me and my brother changed out the back?

After she's done, you follow her to the back of the stall, where small cloth changing rooms are. She hands you your shirt and directs you to put the shirt on.

You hop into the changing room beside hers. As quickly as you can, you tug your polo shirt over your head and shove it in your backpack. You replace it with the festival shirt. You stare at yourself in the mirror they've supplied in the changing room.

Both papa and your dad say you take more after your dad than your papa, which you’d have to agree with. You've got your dad's blue eyes, shitty vision, round shaped face, tanned complexion and unruly hair. You inherited your papa's nose apparently, as well as his white-blonde hair for some reason, even though you're Asian. 

Papa always says that as well as inheriting almost everything from your dad, you also inherited his terrible fashion taste. You find that kind of offensive, but you can't really deny the truth when you were happy with wearing a polo shirt and khakis.

Tearing your gaze from the mirror, you head back outside, fully dressed.

“Took you long enough. What were you doing in there? Reminiscing about your genetic history or something?” Elizabeth greets you.

‘Something like that.’ You sign back.

Elizabeth's changed into the shirt as well, but she's unbuttoned her flannel and put that over the top. Her long black hair sways around her waist. You have no idea how she can stand having hair that long, especially on reasonably hot days like this.

“Look at us. We match. It's just like when we were little and dad and papa dressed us up. They'd be ecstatic to see us voluntarily doing it now.” She says dryly, folding her arms against her chest.

You wrinkle your nose. You know all about the matching outfits that went on when you were younger. You've seen the photos. There's an album thick with photos your papa took  _ just _ of matching outfits. Your favourite one out of all those photos is the one where dad and papa decided to dress you up as gamings most famous twins, Mario and Luigi. Photo you, dressed as Luigi, looks ecstatic to have his photo taken, while photo Elizabeth, dressed as Mario, is throwing a tantrum behind you.

 

“Hey, James, you there buddy?” Elizabeth breaks your thought bubble, snapping her fingers just in front of your face.

‘I'm good! Just thinking about that Mario and Luigi photo again.’

“Oh God not that.” She groans. Even after approximately ten years, she still has the same feelings about dressing up as the Mario twins with her own twin.

‘Well I look cute in that photo.’ You smirk, and she glowers at you.

“Ok then, let's go. You wanna see the rest of the festival right?” She says sharply, after around a full minute of glaring at you.

‘Okay then. Do you want to make our way to the main area? I want to see the performances up close.’ You nod your agreement. You can hear the bands playing from where you’re standing, but you'd prefer a closer look.

You link arms with your sister, beginning to head out of the merch stall and into the street, shooting her what you hope is your most grateful thank you grin.

“Don't worry about it.” She answers your unasked question, using that weird twin sense power the two of you share. “I have a job. You don't need to pay me back. I took money out specifically for this day. Papa's money is for food, my money is for whatever shit catches our eyes, within reason though.”

‘So no 100 dollar bead trees?’ You snicker. You're referencing a stall you saw at a tent market once, which was selling a bunch of (what you can only describe as) bead trees. They were very expensive and they looked very stupid.

“Fuck no, those things are hideous. And there was like, a crowd at his stand? Bitch how, obviously it was a scam.” She kicks an empty soft drink can, watching it skitter across the street only to be trampled by a group of teenagers.

‘Dad was one of those people. We're lucky papa made him see sense and we don't have one of those hideous things in our living room.’ Your gaze scans through the crowds and to the surrounding market stalls. Surprisingly, nothing much really catches your eye like it did before. You guess that's because this area is the more...mystical side of music.

On your left is some people with long hair braided with flowers playing the sitar and bongo drums. On your right, more people with long hair and flowing robes are dancing around in a circle, earning cheers and applause from onlookers. A weird herby-smelling smokey haze covers the area.

“God this place smells like pot.” Elizabeth states, way too loudly, attracting unwanted attention.

You yank her arm wildly, gesturing with your arms and hoping she gets what you mean. More people stare, mostly with malicious intent.

“It does though.”

‘Doesn't mean you have to say it so loud.’ You sign back. ‘Look at all the people staring.’

“Shit you're right. Why are they so goddamn interested? Literally all of these flower wearing hobos are staring at us.” Thankfully, your sister has lowered her voice, and she's leaning in close and speaking in a hiss-whisper.

‘Maybe you shouldn't say they smell like pot and that they're flower wearing hobos really loudly.’ If you could talk, you'd be matching her raspy hiss-whisper right now.

“That might be it. But it's true, this place reeks of pot.”

‘How do you even know what pot smells like?’ 

“That's beside the point, the point is they're creeping me the fuck out.”

‘Alright let's go then, they're kind of creeping me out too.’ You pull her down the street, but a line of the dancing hippies from earlier block your path. You turn back around, but another line of dancing hippies block your path.

“Okay, onto the footpath we go.” This time, she steers you towards the footpath. Thankfully it's relatively clear, and you're able to make an escape.

‘Oh thank fuck.’ You sign in relief, once the hippies start to thin out and the more punk rock festival people start to appear. ‘I'm glad we got out of there. People who like that kind of music are generally crazy.’

“They seemed culty. Did you get that vibe? I did.”

Your eyes widen in realisation and you stop dead on in the street. It couldn't be. You've heard rumours, allegations, but you didn't think they'd actually be true.

“What?” Elizabeth stops next to you, looking at you with concern.

‘It was.’

“What?”

‘It was a cult. No one really talks about it, but it's like this big thing in the music community. They smoke weed and grow their hair out long, and believe in child abuse and how homosexuality is a sin.’

“Wow. Ok. I was half joking. Are you serious?”

‘Completely.’

“Oh shit....you want to fuck with their stuff?” She grins crazily, like a 3 year old about to raid a candy store.

‘No Elizabeth don't be an idiot.’ You tug firmly on her arm. You let go again to speak, hoping she doesn't run off. ‘They're notorious for tracking down those who have wronged them. They may look like weed smoking hippies, but they take revenge seriously. I heard of this one guy who talked about them slightly negatively on TV, and a week later they found him surrounded in entrails shaped like a flower. Also they're homophobic and they believe in child abuse? We are the children of LGBT+ people. Do you not see how this is a bad idea?’

Bless your sisters adhd ass, as she patiently watches all your signing. “I guess so, if what you say is true, then we'd all be fucked, especially dad. Papa would either be half fucked or double fucked, depending on their stance on bisexuality.”

‘So don't mess with them! They're probably all very angry at us right now as it is!’

“Shit you're right. Let's keep going to the main area.”

 

You set off again, slightly faster this time in fear of being followed. Luckily, no one seems to be following the two of you. That's a relief.

Some of the stalls catch your eye, but you're a bit to scared to stop.

After around 10 minutes, when it's clear that no one is following you, you slow down.

You've slowed in the rides section of the festival, which you didn't even know was here. You can see why though-it's nothing much to brag about. There's only a few shitty rides. A small circular boat ride stands to your left, paint peeling off the boats floating in stagnant, murky water. A miniature ferris wheel creaks and groans under the weight of a few small children, rust surrounding creaking joints. The tea cup ride looks slightly less sad, but the one person on the ride certainly looks sad. The only ride in the area that doesn't look sad is the dodgem cars.

“Oh shit James you didn't tell me there were rides here!” Elizabeth half-shouts excitedly. 

‘Well I had no idea they were here.’

“We gotta ride one!” She spins on her heels, looking from shitty ride to shitty ride. Slowly, her excited face falls. And then perks right up again upon seeing the dodgem cars. “Yes! Holy shit we have to ride those!”

Before you can protest, she's already half dragging you over to the dodgem cars ticket booth, and slamming down a twenty dollar bill on the counter.

“Two tickets please!” She chirps. The ticket booth lady just looks the two of you up and down, before slowly moving to give you your tickets and a fiver change.

“There you go. Have a nice ride.” She says, in a very monotonous voice.

“Thank you! We will!” Elizabeth says in a hurry, before dashing towards the line, which is slowly boarding the cars.

You're glad you don't have to wait long. And you're glad that you get to go on almost immediately (just making it as the last two on). You're not glad that you're on the dodgem cars with Elizabeth.

She always goes directly for you! You know that's the point of dodgem cars, but still! She should go for someone else for a change and give her brother a break. You find it hard to have fun when you're constantly getting rammed. 

Then again, you can ram her. That's fun. Until she gets mad and slams into your car, pushing you into the sides of the ring.

You risk taking a hand off the steering wheel to flip her the bird. She returns it in kind, but takes both hands off the steering wheel to flip you the double bird. 

With her hands off the steering wheel, it's the perfect opportunity to escape. You take it.

She swears loudly and profusely, earning her an angry look from the announcer. She zooms after you, fury blazing in her eyes. 

You let out breaths of laughter as you dodge and weave through the other cars. She's swearing her head off at you, earning horrified glances from the other riders. The announcer is very clearly upset with the two of you, but you're having too much fun to care.

You round the corner, Elizabeth hot on your tail. Grinning wildly, you begin to bump into others, not enough to halt your progress but enough to increase your fun.

All too soon, the dodgem cars power down, and the ride ends. Elizabeth's road rage has calmed down, and she looks very smug in the midst of horrified mothers and their children. You step out of the car, and alongside the rest of the riders, head off the dodgem car rink.

“Well, that was fun. Let's get food now.” Elizabeth says, coming up from behind to join you.

‘I think the food area is near the performance area anyway. So we can just continue on that way.’ You point ahead, and following your sister as she begins to walk. 

“You know what's available?” She asks, looking back at you.

‘I have no idea. It should be good food though, or at least a whole bunch of food.’

“Great. That really narrows our options-oh shit! Do you smell that?” She breaks off to sniff the air.

‘I do have working nostrils Elizabeth.’ You frown at her, but she's too busy smelling the air. You can't really blame her, since you're nearing the food stalls.

In your humble opinion, street food smells amazing. Especially when there's so much variety and things cooking. There's so many smells coming from so many stalls. 

Lebanese wraps, French Crepes, kebabs, dim sums, small bowls of noodles and rice, Spanish churros, Indian curries and the like, all being cooked and prepared around you.

“What should we get? The kebabs and wraps look good.” Elizabeth says, eyeing the stall.

‘I think the crepes look good.’ You reply, elbowing her to get her to look down.

“For lunch?” She raises an eyebrow.

‘Yes.’

“Alright, you get a crepe, and I'll get a wrap with a drink. Hmmm, you want a drink too?” The two of you head over to the crepe stall to line up. You know the drill, she'll order for you, then go order her wrap while you wait.

‘Yes please. A can of....’ Shit. There's no word for fanta in asl. ‘...orange’

“Orange? Like juice?”

‘Not juice. Bubbly orange.’

“I don't think they sell bubble tea, and I don't even know if orange bubble tea exists.”

‘Not orange bubble tea! If I wanted that I would have signed so!’

“Spell it out then!”

Angrily, you begin to spell out each letter individually. ‘F-A-N-T-A’

“Oh got it. Sorry James.” 

“Next!” The man at the counter calls. 

“Hey. Can I have a uhhh, James what do you want?”

To avoid another complication in translation, you simply point at what you want. A double choc cream crepe.

“Yeah, my brothers getting a double choc cream crepe.”

“That'll be fifteen dollars.” The man says, looking tired as Elizabeth slams the money on the counter. “Your order will take around ten minutes to make.”

“Yeah that's fine! Thanks!”

You move to the side, standing with those who were also waiting for their order to go through. 

“Alright, I'm ordering my wrap, I'll be just over there, but text me if you need anything.

‘Will do.’ You sign back, just as she turns and heads over to the wrap stand.

 

Well, not much for you to do now except wait. You pull out your phone, seeing as you can't exactly socialise with those around you. The first thing you do is check your Neko Atsume. You know that game is outdated, but whatever, you don't care. You haven't checked it since the train, and your food has run out. You collect the cats gifts, refill the food bowl and exit the app.

Switching on your data, you open up the Facebook app, and begin to scroll it down. This should take up enough time until your crepe is ready.

This first thing you see is one of your papa's stupid memes. You don't understand that shit, so you don't bother reading it. Papa says it's ironic, but your dad says it's stupid,  and you'd have to agree with him.

Next, is an album of your aunties vacation pics. Your Aunty Rose, Aunty Jade and Aunty Kanaya are all on vacation in Italy at the moment. You are extremely jealous, and extremely salty that they wouldn't let you come. You're their favourite nephew! They love you, and love spoiling you with lavish things. Which should include a trip to Europe, but apparently not.

Regardless, the three of them look like they're having a great time. They're at a beach in Italy, according to Jade’s caption. There are four photos in total. In the first photo, Rose is wearing a black bikini with a dark purple sarong tied around her waist, and she's sitting on a towel under an umbrella staring out to sea. In the second photo, Jade waves excitedly at the camera, clutching a wide-brimmed sun hat with one hand and a big grin on her face. In the third photo, Kanaya sits daintily on the sand, building a magnificent sand castle. The final photo is all three of them, Jade in the middle slinging her arms around Rose and Kanaya, all three smiling happily.

You continue scrolling. School friend, school friend, papa's memes, school friend, oh! One of those cake decorating videos!

You watch it. It's somewhat Monet inspired, icing lilies situated on a smearing on different coloured blue and green icings. That may be interesting to make. Quickly, you open up the comments section to tag your dad on it. ‘this would be pretty fun for an experiment, don't you think?’ You type, before sending it and returning to scrolling down.

The rest of your feed scrolls down similarly, except for a thing Elizabeth has tagged you in about older siblings being better. ‘we're fucking twins’ you type back, with the resignation of one who is used to this shit.

Scrolling through Facebook helped you lose some time, so much so, you almost don't notice your order being called out. If it weren't for Elizabeth stepping in to collect it, you probably wouldn't have noticed at all. 

“Whoa buddy, eyes on the prize.”

Embarrassed, you shove your phone back into your pocket and pick up the crepe she's handed you. She's already holding two cans of soft drink (fanta and coke) and her wrap in a small paper bag.

‘Sorry.’

“It's fine.” The two of you begin to head towards the stage. It's very crowded around the stage area, but a little further back is some space to settle on the grass. Lucky you brought a picnic blanket with you. “What were you looking at anyway?”

You can't exactly reply with your hands trapped under your crepe plate. You narrow your eyes at her, and she gets the picture. This crepe is good, and you'd rather eat it than communicate with her right now.

“Shit I'm sorry.” She mumbles, clearly embarrassed.

You shake your head, hoping to convey that you don't mind. Your feet step onto the grassy area. It's a bit brown, and there's a lot of rubbish on the ground, but you already have the perfect spot for you and Elizabeth.

This time, you lead. There's a spot under a tree that is free of rubbish and people, as well as having a good view of the bands on stage. You shove your half-eaten crepe into your sister's hands and set your backpack down. Unzipping it, you pull out a plaid picnic blanket. You spread it out and, kicking your shoes off, settle down on it. Elizabeth sets down the food before joining you, kicking her own shoes off.

Wordlessly, she hands you your fanta and crepe, and begins digging into her own food.

You slow down on the crepe, focusing on the performers on the stage. It’s pretty good. Both the performers and the crepe. Together, it's like heaven.

If you remember the line up correctly, which you do, Swans of Sydney should be playing. They're an Australian band, originating from Northern Sydney with a really unique sound at the moment. 

Elizabeth is on her phone next to you, chowing down on her wrap with the other hand. You can see on her screen that she's texting her girlfriend again. You don't want to disturb her while she's doing that. Last time you did, she punched you in the nuts so hard you felt it for several days. She had no remorse, except for when dad got angry at her, although that was faked.

You stab your fork into your crepe, only to realise its all gone and you ate it all. Goddammit. 

You place the rubbish on the grass beside your shoes, to pick up later. Opening the can of fanta, you keep your eyes fixed on the performers below, taking little sips.

Beside you, Elizabeth has finished her wrap, and chucks her rubbish with yours. She lays down on the picnic blanket completely, small smile on her face as she texts her girlfriend.

You're glad she came with you. Even though she was forced to go. This day would have been hell without her, despite the bullying. Though her attitude is tough, she does care about you.

You're glad she bought the shirt for you. Now you'll have something to remember one of the best days of your life with. The only thing you want to forget is that cult, and you hope they forget about you too.

You don't want this day to end…

But, alas, as you stare down at the crowds and musicians and stalls, you know it has to.

 

***

 

Your name is Dave Strider-Egbert and you wish this train would hurry up so you can get out of here. 

 

Being a famous movie director is great and all, but it means people stare. You like making movies, and you like watching your husband and children's reactions to your movies even more, but you dislike the fame that comes with it. That sounds strange coming from someone as image obsessed as you, ironic even, but you hate it. You've always been a little paranoid, and having people always staring at you and occasionally taking ‘subtle’ photographs doesn't help.

At least you're not that famous, and you can easily hide your face with a wide-brimmed hat without people getting too suspicious.

You and John are sitting on the bench at the train station, waiting for Elizabeth and James's train to come in. You've got an arm draped over John’s shoulders, peering over them as he scrolls down his Facebook feed. You note that he's tagged in a lot of stuff; your dank memes, James's food videos and Elizabeth's sport videos. There's also some stuff from Rose, Jade and Kanaya, as well as Jane, his twin sister, and Roxy, her wife. 

“I thought the memes I shared with you meant something. But apparently not, because everyone shares memes with you.”

“Stop reading over my shoulder! And only you, Roxy and Elizabeth tag me in memes, everyone else tags me in stuff they'd think I'd like.” John chuckles softly, focusing his attention on you rather than his phone.

A text chime rings from John's phone, making him switch to his messages. It's from Elizabeth.

‘We'll be there in a few minutes, just passed the last tunnel now.’

John goes to reply, beginning to type in the textbox.

“Tell them both I say hi.” You say, causing him to pause tiredly.

“You'll see both of them in less than five minutes.”

“Still, tell them I said hi.”

Sighing, John adds a ‘papa says hi’ to the end of his text and sends it.

Pretty much as soon as John sends the text, Elizabeth replies with a ‘:)’ followed by a ‘James says hi too.’

“See, they care about me.” 

“Of course they care about you, you're their father.” John smiles at you, nudging you with his elbow. “They love you. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You respond quickly, blushing a bit at his wide smile. You've been together since you were 16 and everything about him still drives you wild. “And I love the kids too, of course.”

“Of course. I'm glad we had them.” He grins, but there's still that hint of sadness in his gaze from the whole experience. Without saying anything, you pull him closer to you and press a kiss to his curly hair.

“I'm proud of you. I'm proud of them. I'm glad we had them too, I know how hard it was for you, but looking at the good that came out of it, it was worth it.”

“Definitely.” John nods. “And it wasn't entirely bad, I had Jane, Roxy, Dad, Rose, Jade, Kanaya and most importantly, you. I couldn't have done it without you.”

You grin back at him. “Would you have any more though?”

“Oh fuck no. Those two were hard enough.” John shakes his head and you laugh.

“That's fair.”

Whether or not John was going to reply is unknown to you, as the train pulls up to the station with a loud hiss. The doors open, and people start to spill out of the train.

John stands up, and you join him, mainly because John is tiny and it would be easier for James and Elizabeth to spot you rather than John.

“Oh shit John, we forgot the sign for them! Like what people do at airports!” 

“We're their parents, they know who we are!” John replies, standing on his tiptoes in an effort to see his children.

In the thickness of the crowd, it is them who find you. You're suddenly attacked in a tackle hug, only to find its James, squeezing you and John so tightly that you swear he's cut off blood circulation.

“James! Oh hello my darling, how was it?” John asks, squeezing James back twice as hard. He's always been good at hugs.

James nods excitedly.

“How about you tell me all about it later, in the car going home?”

“Where's your sister?” You ask, only to have James shrug in reply. “Oh great, where'd she get off to now.”

“Here!” Elizabeth shouts, appearing out of nowhere, a little out of breath. “I'm here.”

Never one for touching really, she hangs back a little. You don't mind. As long as she's comfortable.

“Did you have fun?” You ask her. 

She shrugs. “As much fun as you can have at a hippy festival.”

James breaks away from hugging you and John to punch her lightly on the shoulder and sign something. ‘You had fun! Like with that cult!’

“Oh, matching t-shirts! How adorable!” John coos, before realisation hits him. “Cult? What do you mean by cult? I better be reading that wrong!”

‘Like you said dad, tell you later in the car.’ James grins, a little smugly.

John opens his mouth to object, but stops once you elbow him. “C’mon John, they'll tell us in the car. Be patient.”

You begin herding your family away from the train platform, and towards the stairs. Somehow, you feel like your children are going to tell a very long story, and you'll want to hear everything they have to say.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has any questions about Elizabeth and James, you can hit me up on tumblr at lord_of_cats, or down in the comments section.


End file.
